


Absent

by LC_Aisling



Category: Versailles (TV 2015)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Verbal Humiliation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-17
Updated: 2019-02-17
Packaged: 2019-10-30 11:17:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17827568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LC_Aisling/pseuds/LC_Aisling
Summary: After being released from prison, Chevalier suffers another blow to his already fragile relationship with Philippe and it proves too much to him personally. Philippe doesn't take it as tragically, but the fact that his long time lover flees from Versailles in the light of it, really surprises him and reminds him that while he's been accusing him of taking him for granted, he himself might have lost touch with his lover's feelings.Not historically accurate. I saw it in a dream and needed to write it out as it was in the dream.





	1. Chapter 1

Chevalier de Lorraine gulped hard to moisture his dry throat while he made his way towards Philippe’s private party he could hear all the way to the other end of the corridor, doing his best to ignore the many looks he received from the half-dressed guests roaming in and out of the door. This was ridiculous – it had been six days since he’d fallen out with Philippe and forbidden to appear to his rooms and now here he was, commissioned by the last person on earth he wished to talk to after learning through rumor mill that his latest lover was behind the whispers in court about his transgression against Philippe. He’d tried to explain to Monsieur that the rumors were false, but them being timed right after his release from the prison, the man simply refused to listen the reason. 

So here he was, trespassing Philippe’s private party and chewing his own lips like a petulant child.

The doors opened and a couple he couldn’t recognize burst through, laughing hard. He caught the door and smiled to them with a slight bow before letting himself in and quietly closing the door. The scent of sex and fruits wafted up to greet him and he winced, when his eyes went straight at his beloved. To know he was a married man and so far had been faithful both to his wife and to him did nothing to his heart as he observed the ebony haired youth plop from Philippe’s lap. He had no idea, who the kid was, but the kid sure knew him, he read from his doe eyed disappearing act.

“You were not invited.” Philippe reminded him over his shoulder.

“I’m not here of my own volition.” Chevalier gritted out, forcing his hands not to swat at the young Adonis, who had so simply taken his place. Is that why Louis had sent him here? To show him how easily he could be replaced? He moved his eyes back to whom mattered and forced a smile. “King wishes to remind you tomorrow’s meeting and to make sure you are sober enough to -”

“You’re my brother’s lapdog now?” Philippe spat over his shoulder, still not looking at him.

How was he supposed to respond to that. Did he honestly think he would play messenger between him and his brother if given a chance?

“I can not refuse my king if he so nicely asks in front of all the courtiers-” he started, but he was caught off guard when Philippe flew around and the empty glass was pressed against his chest like a dagger faster than he could react.

“You do not speak of the king like that! Not to me in private nor in public! Can’t you just once keep your poisonous tongue behind your teeth and not insult anyone in my family?”

Chevalier felt his heart stop, but was reminded it was still working as it continued thundering in the sudden silence that followed his yelling. Had he really said something wrong? Was it his tone of voice? God, he wasn’t sure anymore he possessed the art of speech at all since he couldn’t even manage two sentences in a row that wouldn’t trigger something.

He wanted to disappear. By now the entire court was aware how fast he’d fallen from Philippe’s good graces, but so far it had consisted of him returning to his own small quarters and grudgingly watching his beloved flaunted his sudden freedom to sweet talk new young men into…

Instead of running, he inclined his head and bowed very lightly with polite smile. “I meant no offense.”

He felt the glass poke at his chest once more before it fell away. He followed it with his eyes, not looking up at Philippe’s eyes again. It hanged in his hand for few seconds and then it flew over his head at the wall, making his mind go blank.

“You never mean it, but somehow you always manage! This is all your own doing, you know? You get out of one mess and then we discover you had another mess already brewing!”

Chevalier’s breathing hitched as he pushed himself up and straightened back to the awkward looking pose of pride. Philippe had turned his back on him and if it hadn’t registered in his mind yet that this time Philippe really meant to break their affair up, then seeing his back somehow hit him hard.

He’d had time to think in the prison, where he was set up against the wall like common thief and interrogated once a day to find out, who his accomplishes for treason had been. For promise of food they’d wanted him to confirm Philippe’s involvement and he’d denied it. The same man, who was now shaking his head in disbelief of a rumor Chevalier wasn’t even sure was true or not. Yes, he’d slept with women in the past, but...

“How could you do this to me? I was in war and came home to what? You pissing on our -”

“I did not have a lover while you were away!” God, this was embarrassing in front of all the onlookers. This was gonna be painful rumor tomorrow.

“Really?” Philippe spat. “So the kid is what, our next Messiah?”

Chevalier opened his mouth to say it was true, that he had proof he couldn’t be the kid’s father, but instead, he closed his mouth without a word. He was telling the truth, and normally he would name several people, who would vouch for him, but as things were, none of them would incriminate their own causes by sidelining with him. And who in their right mind would if that meant they could free up the position of Philippe’s lover? And then there were few he wasn’t willing to pull into dug-of-war game because he actually did care not to set them in front of Louis nor Philippe for their next picking. Didn’t help that none of them were here last year, when the incident supposedly happened. 

So he kept his mouth shut, knowing it would be the worst decision of his life, because that was as good as admitting the defeat.

“Get out.” Philippe sighed, hurt blatantly visible in his eyes sending new shiver of pain through Chevalier. He was about to leave, when he heard his last stab. “Go and tell my brother that I have no reason to stay up late anyway, so he doesn’t have to worry about my abilities!”

Chevalier’s eyes drew closed on the pain and humiliation, but he didn’t stop walking and made his way through the shocked audience with his head held high.

Half an hour later he had delivered the message to the servant standing behind king’s door, because the time was indeed creeping late and Louis was already settling for bed and made his own way back to his quarters so he could relieve himself from the suddenly choking cravat and shoes and everything he now associated with the humiliation for playing messenger boy for two brothers. One, who was seeking to rub in the pain he felt over losing his place by the man he’d spent the last decade with and another, who knew of his distaste with the king and wanted to make sure he knew his place from now on. Nothing but a messenger.

He relieved himself of his clothes before his servant realized he’d returned and sat in silence on the edge of his bed through half the night before the day’s events took its toll and he fell asleep.

The next day, he had the joy of doing it all over once more and this time, witnessed by Lieselotte, who frowned deeply while watching it all as if presented with the latest play.

That was Chevalier’s limit. He didn’t come out of his room the day after that, suddenly not ready to put on polite smile while he was whipped around like a dog while Philippe glared up at him from his seat next to his wife and Louis glared down at him for setting foot in his office on king’s own orders.

He couldn’t take it. It had been nine days since Philippe’s outburst and fortnight since his return from the prison. The part of the night that wasn’t filled with nightmares from the prison times were filled with dreams of Philippe reminding him not to show his face, or walking in on him having sex with somebody else. As he had witnessed that more than once at the early times of their courtship, those dreams turned his stomach as much as the others, so when he did manage to sleep, it was done out of pure exhaustion. Oddly, the wine nor the powders helped him calm down and he tossed them out eventually, chuckling like a madman at that, reminiscing how Philippe had begged him to stop using them. He got what he wanted in the end, Chevalier toasted as he watched the last of the powder disappear in his chamber pot.

Perhaps it was his own fault? He’d managed to make so many enemies over the years and for years he’d thought he was safe with Philippe by his side. That had abruptly ended and for what? His big mouth and astonishingly culpable naivete for someone, who was brought up in the center of what he could describe as civil war that had no end and no piece treaty in sight. He’d turned into a fool, who paid for it and this was nothing but an aftermath of it all.

So what else could a coward do but run? And he did, took his horse from the stables, the tiny portrait of Philippe painted before he went to war and enough provisions to fit into a saddle bag. And a brush set gifted to him by his l- . He stopped there, reminding himself that there was no love in his life now. As abruptly as it had began, it had now ended and he had to accept it. So he set everything else back and only took the brush. He couldn’t leave the brush behind, the memories it carried of his mignonette soft touches was something he couldn’t leave behind.


	2. Chapter 2

Philippe kept himself busy. If he frowned more often, he didn’t care.  If he chose not be part of some mindless discussion over latest trend – their loss . This whole thing with Chevalier had seriously pissed him off and if he was not to see the liar’s face for another month, he’d be more than happy to ask Louis to send him to sooth over some foreign relation drama or… whatever. He didn’t want to see him just yet. He’d forgive him eventually, it wasn’t as if he himself could stake his heart for monogamy both their hearts desired and in all honesty he missed him.

He signed the counting books for the armory set Louis had told him to keep eye out for and forced his mind away from Chevalier. He had no idea, where he was sulking, he shouldn’t care. The joke of using him as messenger boy had ended when the man wasn’t available two days ago and aside the anger filling his mind over the seemingly pointless fact, he had let it go.

He was handed last month’s spending and with one glance he gave it back to his accountant. “You made a mistake.”

“Monsieur?”

“You didn’t take Chevalier’ spending in account.” He explained, baffled for a moment how simple mistake the man had made after being under his household for nearly four years.

“No, Monsieur.”

Philippe left it to that for a moment before his mind started reeling from the odd response. “No - as in -?” he prompted, but got silence. “The sum is way too small – it has to be a mistake. Do it again.”

“There were no expenses by Chevalier the past month.”

He snorted, looking up from the documents he’d concentrated on.

“I understand the first half of the month he spent in prison, but the last two weeks? His gambling usually doubles, when he is upset and I’m sure he went on a shopping spree since he hasn’t been -” he faltered, counting back the time since he last saw his lover. He had gone to Paris, surely, to spend his money and punish him in his own mindless way. “Has he received money from unexpected sources?” The panic in his voice was hard to hide, but if his love had been stupid enough to do it, he could face accusations of another treason and Philippe wasn’t sure he could go through this again.

“No, Monsieur.”

“Did he win at the cards?”

A shake of his head.  Now there was a puzzle, Philippe wondered, but he had to finish the rest of his work before he could return to it.

He went through the motions of paperwork, dismissing his personal accountant, but his head wasn’t in it. The moment he was left by the ministers, he went in search of Chevalier. He wasn’t in his quarters, he wasn’t in the salons either before he remembered he’d left from Versailles. He tried to calm down, sensing his own mind going on overdrive. Next he checked with Marchal, just in case and managed to breath freely again, when the man confirmed that Chevalier had not been arrested again nor taken to any hospitals for god knows what reasons. Then he headed straight to Lieselotte’s rooms, ignoring the surprised servants cleaning her rooms.

“He left!” He roared and she covered her ears with a frown. She asked her servants to leave them alone before addressing her husband.

“I know.”

“And you didn’t think to –! I went all the way to Marchal to find out if I should appeal to my brother for his release! Why wouldn’t you tell me?”

“Look, he’s a grown man and you and Louis were playing that awful game, so it seemed right to allow him time on his own before I sent you after him.”

“Game.” Philippe repeated, waving his hands helplessly. “He had a child with-”

“He did not. Louis sent her quietly away yesterday. He came here himself to talk to you, but he said you were too drunk to comprehend his words, so he advised me to wait until you’re sober before breaking it to you. She lied. Sophie heard her mention the birth date and I consulted with the physician – there is no way he could have been six hundred miles away on your birthday.”

He let out a groan and hid his face in his hands. It was the night he’d spent with Chevalier. Lieselotte smirked knowingly.

“We’ve all noticed your little detour to Dionysus gardens, my dear Philippe. Louis also degreed as your sovereign king not to touch his wine bottles unless you have something to celebrate.”

Philippe was torn between blasting his brother for turning such an intimate thing into kingly matter and Chevalier’s impromptu actions. “Fine, I won’t touch his damn wine! I’ll drink my own!” Lieselotte snorted and he paused, feeling lighter than he’d felt for weeks now. 

He landed on the edge of her bed and sat there silently, thinking. “Why can’t he act like he always does?”

“Chevalier? Like what?”

“Irritatingly jealous and outrageously self-observantly?”

“Who says he isn’t acting like so now?”

“He left me!” Philippe shouted. Lieselotte gave him one rather angry glare and waited until it dawned on him. “He hasn’t been same since he got out from the prison, has he?”

“No. He has tried everything in his power aside graveling by your feet and I must say, hadn’t you two used him as messenger, he might have done just that. My guess is, he came to a conclusion that it is really over this time and as he is no longer indebted to you, he used the chance and went home.”

“How do you know that? He hugged the walls half the time I was in the same room with him! Did you talk to him?”

“He also got spooked every time somebody approached him when he was little drunk. We aren’t friends, dear.”

“Yeah,” Philippe agreed with a sigh, “my little coward.” They sat there for a while in silence, Philippe thinking back on their quarrels and searching what he’d missed so badly this time that it made him run. “So you think he went home?”

She shrugged. “Not sure, exactly. He didn’t say anything before he went.”

“His home is with me.” Philippe whispered, pained. Chevalier wouldn’t go back to his family, that much he was sure, but he most likely wouldn’t go any of his villas either and before that he lived with him most of the time, which was longer than he’d lived with either of his wives.

“I have to go.” Philippe couldn’t sit there and do nothing.

Lieselotte nodded. “Apology is quite a simple matter, dear, only three words. Well, if you get to words. I mean...” she giggled like a little girl at that and waved him away.

Philippe left her to giggle alone, completely ignoring her jab. It didn’t help him at all at the moment aside making him feel worse than before. Chevalier had left and without any word of his whereabouts and since he had never done that before, it turned his insides cold. He couldn’t even follow nor search on his own volition due all the duties he had planned for the next week. What if something had happened to him? Should he have gone out searching the moment he learned he hadn’t been seen for a full day and night?

He returned to Chevalier’ rooms and searched every corner of it until he found what he’d been looking for – a deed of a state three hour away from Versailles he hadn’t seen before. It had been dated two years before and he recalled vaguely him mentioning an uncle, who’d left him some wealth. It mattered not. He made a random guess that that’s where he’d find him for it was the only place he couldn’t recall ever hearing in the same sentence with Chevalier.

Four hours later he was there and waiting impatiently in the half-recovered reading room, which had clearly not been prepared to host visitors. Nor did it imply anybody living there in longer term either with only four chairs released from sheets and small table pushed into place with feet marks set in the dust. If he hadn’t known any better, he would have guessed they were only set up seconds before he burst through the door. Which explained the mighty dust cloud creating strong beams of visible lights  through foggy windows that did no favors to half wild garden view.

But he didn’t care. It could have been ditch and he was willing to stay put because the servant, who had led him here had said the magical words “Chevalier de Lorraine will be here shortly”.

He spent the time observing the walls and the exquisite chairs. The rooms were drafty for late summer and reminded him of stables rather than cozy apartment he shared with him. Most of the doors weren’t even closed, as if someone had deliberately opened them up to air the place. Which would have made sense if he guessed the house hadn’t been used in many years, but it still hurt his heart to think Chevalier had succumbed to living in drafty cold space rather than remaining in the warmth of the palace.

“Don’t be ridiculous! I haven’t received a single guest the whole time! This palace is not open for visitations and I have not sent out any invites!” Philippe heard Chevalier nettling the servant, who, by the sounds, was running to keep up with him. “I told you clearly I don’t want any visitors!”

Philippe bit down on his lower lip as he considered the crack in Chevalier’s voice and straightened his posture before the man stormed in and stopped so abruptly his manservant flew into him.

There was a long pause and then, instead of polite hello, he simply bowed, eyes turning to the ground in front of his shoes like was in that stupid etiquette they’d crafted out of the blue for his brother.

He found it so amusingly irritating he couldn’t help the jab. “You do understand you shouldn’t have left the court without informing Bontemps about it! It was your idea in the first place! At least follow it!”

Chevalier didn’t raise his eyes and it made him groan, dismissing the servant himself.

“Get up!” He retorted.

Slowly he did, remaining on his spot for a long minute while they both stared at each other. Chevalier eyes fell first and with a sigh and stiff walk he turned towards the small table with the glasses and wine.

“Would you like something refreshing, the ride always makes me famished. I could order you some refreshments if you’d -”

“Chevalier, stop.” Philippe ordered, taking in his disheveled jacket which wore signs of being worn longer than it should have and the way his hair were held back with small silk ribbon. He recognized the ribbon as one he’d lost months ago. He gulped. “Look at me. Please.”

Chevalier did, slowly. By the time he had turned fully, Phillip was in front of him and seeking his hands to touch him. He smelled like countryside, but at the moment he didn’t care. It was still better scent than the one he carried after he returned from his prison cell.

“He could have accused you in some collision again, weren’t you thinking about it, my little fool?” He chided, but there was no real accusation in it.

“I wasn’t! I swear I wasn’t! Even the first time I was just stupid, I wasn’t even plotting, but it felt so good to be in charge of my own business for change that I wasn’t paying attention where I signed! My only mistake was to sign too low on the bill and leaving too much space between the words and my signature and they. Oh god, I swear this was so stupid! They cut the piece off from the bill and wrote the contact list with my genuine signature! I swear on my honor -” his breath hitched, but he kept on, “on my family’s honor, I wasn’t plotting anything! I couldn’t deny it was my signature when Throckmorton presented it to me and then the masked guy, god, I thought he was demon from hell, when Louis asked me about him. But I didn’t see his face and I only know of him, because he was in one of the nobleman's house, when I went there to set the shop up and… I’m sorry, Phillip.” He whispered immediately, his eyes filling up on moments notice. “I didn’t mean to hurt your reputation any further and I wasn’t thinking, so I…”

Philippe shook his head, his eyes still focused on the two in front of him, pale and clear from any fogginess that had been part of it pretty much since he married Lieselotte. Afraid and apologetic, but clear and bright. Though his hands still shook like a leaf, but he knew remedy for that and took hold of them, massaging over his knuckles with his thumb until he relaxed a little.

“So your only crime was not paying attention, like usually.”

Chevalier snorted, but agreed with a nod.

“I’m sorry too.” Philippe whispered against his forehead before kissing it gently. He pressed his hands hard against his chest so Chevalier couldn’t run off. “The woman was spreading rumors about you. Turned out you were not the father after all.” The relieved laughter that burst from Chevalier made his own chest rumble with satisfaction. He watched as the two hands dig into his jacket little bit more and continued. “I didn’t think it’d hurt me so much to know you have a child out there when you’ve had to sit on sidelines with every one of my mine. I’m sorry. Will you forgive me?”

Chevalier nodded against his chest and he used the moment to hug him tight against his chest, rocking him gently from side to side. There was so much more he wanted to do, but at this point he knew Chevalier wasn’t ready for it.

“Will you come home then?” Philippe asked, looking outside in the gardens. Was this place really Chevalier’s? It looked so disheveled.

The man stiffened immediately  and his arms began to shiver. Philippe’s eyes fell closed, he should have guessed it wasn’t going to be that easy.

“You won’t have to meet anyone if you don’t want and I would gladly offer to stay here, but my schedule includes two quarter year meetings and four ambassadors and Louis will kill me himself if I miss any of those meetings.” He tried to lighten the mood before his own memories threatened to overtake him and he added hoarsely. “And I’m the star in the night, you yourself told me that once, remember? What a better way to banish nightmares of the dark than by sleeping next to a star? Come home, my love, let me be your star once more.”

Chevalier didn’t move at first, but then he timidly looked up, his hands sliding lower and into his vest buttons and it popped open at the same time his lips brushed against his. “I’ve missed you, love.”

“I’ve missed you too, my dear.” He agreed, slipping his fingers into his waistcoat and plucking the button open. Well, they could sacrifice an afternoon if the table here was sturdy enough for them two...

 

THE END


End file.
